Filmmaker Caveh Zahedi went the self-exposure route to far better effect in 1994’s humorous father-son story I Don’t Hate Las Vegas Anymore; here, he wallows in wretchedness, dramatizing the many relationships he says were undone by his growing addiction to prostitutes. Hard to muster much sympathy there, though the movie at first follows a playful, Tristram Shandy-esque trajectory that parodies Zahedi’s low-budget attempts to bring his sordid tale to the screen. But all the self-deprecation in the world can’t mask the story’s inherent ugliness, which worsens in proportion to Zahedi’s “condition.” When he starts to indulge his rape fantasies, the movie becomes impossible to take as even funny-pathetic. At 98 minutes, Addict demands an investment not repaid by its basic unpleasantness, and certainly not by its strenuously overworked scenes of the filmmaker receiving blow jobs both paid-for and gratis. Who does he think he is, Vincent Gallo? (NR; opens Friday, May 26, at DMAC, 407-992-1200)